Medicine Man

Why doesn’t she leave it alone? I’m doing everything I can to fix it. Fucking everything.

“What happened at Mass General, with Claire and the rumors… it was unfortunate. It could’ve happened to anyone and yes, that includes you too. I know you think you’re invincible or a god, maybe. But you’re human and you have to be smart, Simon. Joseph has been wanting you here for years. This is your father’s legacy and it’s yours, if you want it…”

“But?”

She raises her eyebrows. “The board of directors is taking this as a trial run and I don’t want you to blow it. This is still a hospital. People talk. We have a zero-tolerance policy, but I can’t be there all the time to enforce it. If you are seen hugging a patient, a beautiful, young patient, then there’s not much I can do.”

“I’m not asking you to do anything.”

“I know you asked to meet with her this week. Again.”

I narrow my eyes at where she’s going with this. “And?”

“I’m glad you’re taking an interest in the patients. Joseph has always tried to be involved with them as much as he could. But as you know, sessions and any individual therapy are left up to other trained professionals.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that you can focus on other things. In some in-patient facilities people don’t even get to see their psychiatrist. You don’t have to be so involved.”

“Excuse me?”

“Simon, is there… Is there anything between the two of –”

“Beth,” I cut her off, sighing sharply. “Do you really think that I would do something like that with a patient after what I’ve seen?”

I’ve known Beth all my life. When I was a kid, she’d bring over casseroles when my mother was going through her episodes. My father made himself scarce during such times, especially during such times. And my mother would break just a little more than she already was, every time he wouldn’t come home, choosing to spend his time at Heartstone.

Beth has seen all this. She and Joseph, Dr. Martin, have been there every step of the miserable way.

Sadness washes over her face. “Oh, Simon. I –”

I cut her off again because I can’t take her pity. I’m not that hungry little kid anymore, and neither am I weak and pathetic like my father.

“Look, I was just doing my job. She’s my patient. I know my boundaries. I’m not my father.”

I’m better than him.

At the heel of my words though, I feel something. A softness, as if warmth is still pressing up against me in the shape of a tiny body.

Her body. Her long, wavy, moon-like hair.

The only reason I don’t do it is because I can’t take leaving something behind.

I shove my hands inside my pockets and with them, I shove those nonsensical thoughts away, too.

“Do you blame us? For what happened to your mom?” Beth asks, tears in her eyes.

I don’t talk about my mother a lot. The last time I mentioned her was to a twelve-year-old boy, Dean, when I found him at the cemetery.

“The only person I blame is my dad,” I say, hoping that she walks away now.

“She was good at pretending, Simon. We all thought she was doing okay. We thought she was in a good place. We had no idea that she was that far gone. We thought we knew her. We did everything to make her happy when your father wasn’t around.” Tears fall down her cheeks. “But then, maybe we didn’t. I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for not… doing enough.”

That’s what I think about too.

Did I do enough? Was I there for her enough? If I was, then why did she do what she did?

Why did she leave me behind?

I spent a lot of time thinking about that. I’d replay all the moments, all the things we did together, my mother and me. How I’d quit everything to be with her, so she never felt alone. How I’d stay up all night if I had to because she couldn’t sleep.

I did everything that a good son would do. Everything.

Over the years, I’ve come to realize that it wasn’t me. It was him. He killed her. Not her illness. Not the meds.

Him.

And I was left behind.

I wonder if she thought about me in those final moments. If she thought about her son and how she was leaving him behind.

“It wasn’t your fault. It was his fault,” I say with gritted teeth. “He was the one she wanted, and he wasn’t there. He was a fraud, my father. People think he’s this legendary doctor, saving everyone, when he couldn’t save his wife. He couldn’t even stand her and her illness. And my mom knew that. If it weren’t for him, she’d still be alive.”

“He was a lousy father, Simon,” Beth begins after a few moments, wiping her tears off. “A lousy husband. Believe me, I know. You don’t have to forgive him. We don’t have to forgive him. But please, don’t throw away something good, something amazing because of him. You can do so much here, at this hospital. Please.”